


a study in prom

by orchid_spiral



Category: Lucha Underground, NXT, Pro Wrestling Guerrilla, Professional Wrestling, Ring of Honor, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Bullying, Fourth Wall Breakage, Homestuck Format, May/December Relationship, Multi, Second Person, Slurs, Underage Drinking, character and relationship lists prone to change, crackfic, high school/boarding school AU, not a crossover though, only POV characters tagged, promfic, title has been changed from 'let it rain', tweener!Johnny, with some variations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:16:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4740995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orchid_spiral/pseuds/orchid_spiral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not the prom they wanted, but by the end of the night, nobody's going to give a damn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. act one, scene one

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Promstuck: A Homestuck Fan Adventure (With Prom)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/220164) by [Cephied_Variable](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cephied_Variable/pseuds/Cephied_Variable), [schellibie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/schellibie/pseuds/schellibie), [urbanAnchorite (t_ZM)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_ZM/pseuds/urbanAnchorite). 



> So hey, everyone. This is what I've been working on the past... fuck, I don't even know. Basically, after reading Promstuck, I thought 'Shit, I should write something like that', and then for once, I actually did it. I know, I'm amazed too. So yeah: this is a Homestuck-style wrestling fic, but at this point I'm not calling it a crossover because apart from the format there's nothing in this story that's actually from Homestuck, apart from some of the references. I've probably forgotten to tag a lot of stuff, for which I'm very sorry and please tell me if I have so I can correct it. For the record, I did seriously consider giving everyone Pesterchum-esque titles and typing quirks, but given the sheer number of characters, it would be nearly impossible- that, and my grasp of AO3's HTML is shaky enough as it is. Unfortunately, while Promstuck has some damn amazing illustrations, I can't draw, so no illustrations. :( For the record, while I did my best to make this cracky and light-hearted, I'm the one writing it so it does get dark in places, though I'm doing my damn best to make sure that it doesn't get as dark as my usual stuff. I hope you all enjoy it. :)
> 
> Note: this fic was previously known as 'let it rain', but the title was changed because every time I saw it I hated it a little more. That, and it seemed too similar to the titles of some of my other works, which was accidental but no less problematic. Sorry for any confusion caused.

 

==>BE A STUDENT FROM WWE HIGH. 

Your name is DEAN AMBROSE, and you FUCKING HATE PROMS.  
  
And you _really_ hate this prom.  
  
OK, you’d hate proms no matter what, but this particular prom was spawned straight from Satan’s nutsack specifically to torment you, and it hasn’t even started yet.  
  
Because not only is this prom an INTER-SCHOOL DANCE FOR THE PURPOSE OF FOSTERING COOPERATION AND FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN OUR INSTITUTIONS, it’s fucking _compulsory._  
  
Yeah, that’s right. Not only do you have to sit through fucking _hours_ of STUPID DANCING, BAD FOOD and SHITTY OUTFITS, you didn’t even get a _choice_.  
  
And you won’t just be doing it in the company of the assholes you attend school with, oh no. You have to do it in the company of the losers from NXT HIGH, the asshats from PWG HIGH, the stuck-up dickbags from ROH HIGH, and worst of all, those fucking insane lunatics from LU HIGH.  
  
You are in hell. And all the devils are laughing at you.  
  
No, wait, there’s only one devil. And it’s your best friend.

What the fuck did you do to deserve this?

On second thought, nobody answer that.

  
  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--

\-- Seth Rollins [SR] began chatting to Dean Ambrose [DA] --

  
SR: Dean, what crawled up your ass and died?  
DA: Fuck off.  
SR: Come on, man, lighten up. It’s not _that_ bad.  
DA: Not that bad? Not that _bad?_ Are you fucking _blind?_  
SR: Hey, I’m not the one sitting around glaring like Principal McMahon set this up just to spite me.  
DA: No, he probably did it to reward you for all those times you ate out his fucktard kids.  
SR: OK, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: that is _not_ what happened.  
DA: Like fuck it wasn’t.  
SR: You know that’s bullshit.  
DA: What I _know_ is that you’re a backstabbing scumbag piece of shit.  
SR: Fuck you too, buddy.  


\--END PROM LOG--

  
==>DEAN: REFLECT ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH YOUR BEST FRIEND.  
  
SETH ROLLINS is the worst person you have ever met in your life.  
  
And that is all that needs to be said.

  
  
==>DEAN: REFLECT ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH YOUR BEST FRIEND IN A MORE HONEST AND THOROUGH MANNER.  
  
Fuck you.  
  
OK, fine.  
  
Seth Rollins is the alpha to your omega. The sousaphone to your drum major. The sun to your moon. The Batman to your Joker. The Kyogre to your Groudon. The _fuck it you loved him and he left you, OK?_  
  
He is your best friend and worst enemy, and he’s your worst enemy because of those cocksucking dicksmoking McMahons.  
  
And you really don’t want to go any further into-

  
  
==>DEAN: GO FURTHER INTO IT.  
  
- _fuck._  
  
Fine. Back to the beginning it is, then.

 

==>DEAN: INITIATE FLASHBACK.  
  
You met Seth Rollins on the first day you arrived in WWE High, around a year and a half ago. You were in FCW High until it closed down, but-

  
  
==>DEAN: EXPLAIN?  
  
You were _trying_ to, but this _asshole_ keeps cutting in and telling you what to do.  
  
Fuck it. If this asshole wants to interrupt, they can fucking explain.

  
  
==> ~~ASSHOLE~~ AUTHOR: EXPLAIN BECAUSE YOU NEVER SHUT UP.

You are now ORCHID_SPIRAL, and you fucking _love_ EXPOSITION. Which in layman’s terms means you’ll be talking your arse off.

Right! Let’s get this show on the road. 

The wonderful world of competitive education is in fact a shithole of lies, damned lies and mostly fake statistics. Students compete against each other to get the highest marks on tests and assignments, gaining more and more privileges and rewards as they ascend the ranks. Then the schools send their best students to compete against each other in the name of prestige and gloating. There’s a lot of money to be made from these competitions, and a lot of kids are trying very hard to be the very best they can be.

WWE High is the best school in the world, or so it says. It takes students out of elementary school, as despite what the name says, it is not solely for high school students. These students are thus taught to be the best they can be, academically, with their results shown to the world through various competitions and nationwide tests.  
  
WWE High rose to prominence under the guidance of Principal VINCE MCMAHON, but recently, its results have been floundering somewhat. Some say that it’s time that he stepped down and put the school in the hands of his capable Vice-Principal, STEPHANIE MCMAHON, and TRIPLE H, Stephanie’s husband and the principal of NXT High (though he lets his vice-principal, WILLIAM REGAL, do most of the day-to-day stuff) but Vince probably won’t be letting go any time soon.  
  
In order to prepare students for their arrival into the harsh world of WWE High, they have a sister school, NXT High, which trains students beforehand. NXT High used to be FCW High, but it wasn’t quite at the same level. Hunter runs NXT High now, and he’s doing a damn good job, though occasionally outsiders doubt his loyalty to his father-in-law. But that’s a whole other explanation.  
  
Got it? Good!

 

==>STOP BEING ORCHID_SPIRAL AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN.

You are now Dean again, and you would like to point out that you could have explained all of that yourself, if that asshole hadn’t insisted on cutting in.

  
  
==>DEAN: GO BACK TO YOUR FLASHBACK, PLEASE.  
  
Yeah, yeah.  
  
You were in FCW High, and you stood out as a student who really knew what he was doing. You kicked ass and took names, and everyone knew not to fuck with you. Hell, you even got better marks than Regal one time, when he took the same test as his students for a laugh.  
  
And you knew Seth Rollins back then. Yeah, you said you met him on your first day in WWE High, but you’re getting to that.  
  
You knew Seth Rollins in FCW as a good guy who was way, way too amenable to getting fucked with. And you fucking hated him.  
  
When it came down to it, you saw yourself, the gutter-climber who fought and scratched his way up with every fibre of his being, and you saw Seth Rollins, the good boy from a good background who got everything he wanted without even trying, and you hated what you saw.  
  
So you fucked with him as much as you could. You made his life hell, you fucked with his head, you screwed him up and kicked him down. And to his credit, he occasionally tried to fight back, but he was just too _nice_.  
  
And in the end, he came out on top. FCW High closed its doors and got turned into NXT High, and Seth became their top student. You, on the other hand, weren’t even invited back in.  
  
Well, that’s an understatement. You weren’t _not invited,_ you were barred. Something about all the fights you’d got into.  
  
But you didn’t care.  
  
In the end, not getting invited to NXT was a setback, but not a flat-out refusal. WWE High hadn’t barred you, NXT High had. In theory, it meant that WWE High was off limits. In practice… maybe not.

There was a loophole there just waiting to be exploited, you’d thought. WWE High’s new policy said they wouldn’t accept students who didn’t go through NXT first. And technically, you had gone through NXT. It was just called FCW at the time. Same function, same connections… was there really a difference? You thought not.  
  
So fuck it, you’d thought. Why not?  
  
It was a ballsy move, and it took fucking ages, but they finally accepted you. You’re probably the only one who made it with that trick. And you ended up walking through the gates of WWE High at the same time that Seth _fucking_ Rollins did the exact same thing.  
  
And then the two of you had the most awkward conversation of your lives.

It was so awkward, in fact, that you refuse to flashback to it. Instead, you’ll just give it a quick recap.  
  
Basically, you both acknowledged that you were dicks, threw in some cheap insults, and finally decided to be friends, as you were both new kids who were determined to be the best, and in a cut-throat school like WWE High, you’d have it pretty damn hard if you decided to be rivals on top of the rest of the bullshit.  
  
And with that, you were best friends, as you demonstrated by giving a black eye to the guy who called Seth a wannabe pussy not three minutes later.

Seth seemed very alarmed by your doing so, by which you surmised that he’d never had a real best friend. You decided that you would show him what a real best friend was like, or you wouldn’t be worthy of the name.

You both landed in the principal’s office not fifteen minutes after you walked through the gates, and you’re still proud of that. After all, it was a new record for you.  
  
It was outside the principal’s office, in fact, that you met your other best friend. His name is ROMAN REIGNS, and he was just trying to submit the forms to get everyone to call him Roman Reigns, not Leakee, the name you knew him under back in FCW.  
  
He and Seth knew each other well, so they were chatting along happily in no time, and even included you, even though you barely had any idea what they were talking about.  
  
Once you two got out of the principal’s office, Roman picked you two up and showed you around. Later, you found out that while normally the dorms randomly assign people to their rooms, you could apply to room with a friend if you wanted, provided that you and said friend/s abided by the dorm rules. It took a while, but soon the three of you would be rooming together.  
  
And just like that, you had two best friends.  
  
It was a good day.

  
==>DEAN: RETURN TO THE PRESENT.  
  
And that’s how it all started.  
  
It went so well, too. The three of you dominated the competitions. Much to your delight, you soon found that like you and Seth, Roman only wanted to be the best of the best. By yourselves, you were notable. Together, you were unstoppable.  
  
And then Seth decided to go be the traitorous fucking liar he always was, apparently.  
  
Fuck this shit. You’re even more pissed off now.

 

==>DEAN: WHEN DID ALL OF THIS HAPPEN?

He ditched you three months ago, and came back a week ago. So yeah. You’re raw as fuck and pissed off as hell. You and Roman have barely talked to him since he returned. You did an acrobatic fucking pirouette into the world of pure anger three months ago and you’ve never looked back.

Fuck it. You’re done with this bullshit.

 

  
  
==>BE SOMEONE ELSE.  
  
You are now Roman Reigns, and you are DETERMINED TO ENJOY THIS, despite everyone else’s opinions about this prom. 

Seriously, they all need to shut the hell up already. You’re all here, you may as well make the best of it.

  
  
==>ROMAN: TAKE NOTE OF YOUR SURROUNDINGS.  
  
It’s the early hours of PROM NIGHT, and you’re standing in one of the rooms allocated to the prom in this fancy hotel in Topeka, Kansas. Given that WWE High is in Connecticut, PWG High and LU High are in California, NXT High’s in Florida and ROH High is in Maryland, the schools collectively decided to pick a neutral place to hold the prom and host you all for the three or so days you'll be sticking around for afterwards. Wise move, you’d thought, given that setting the prom anywhere near any single one of the schools would lead to vandalism at best, assault at worst, and if it was at LU High, probably human sacrifice.

As one might expect, the room is huge, full of tables and chairs, and there’s a big empty space for dancing. There’s also a section on the other side that seems to be full of unused chairs and tables, and that you’ve all been told not to enter. You imagine that someone will probably be making out amongst those chairs and tables by the end of the night.

The WWE High kids are all here, milling around the room like a flock of very disorganised sheep. You heard that everyone got to the hotel on time, so everyone should be arriving soon. The NXT High kids will probably arrive next, and then the ROH High, LU High and PWG High kids. Once everyone’s here, the prom will finally start. Thank God you didn't have to bring a date, that'd just make everything even nastier. If that were actually possible.  
  
Your CHAPERONES are watching you all with very stern eyes. Each school is sending two chaperones along to keep an eye on you all. WWE High’s chaperones are KANE and TRISH STRATUS, so you know you’ll have to be very careful with any shenanigans you were planning. Not that you were planning anything. Those two don’t fuck around.  
  
To your left, Dean is slouching and grumbling. It’s probably about Seth. It usually is. You’re used to it.  
  
To your far right, Seth is talking to RANDY ORTON about something. You don’t want to know. Not if it involves Orton.

  
  
==>ROMAN: EXPLAIN WHAT HAPPENED WITH SETH.  
  
It’s pretty simple, really. You three were the best students by far. No one in the school could stand against you. So after a while, it just stopped being fun. There was no competition, no effort needed and no real benefit to being the best.

So it really wasn’t a surprise that Seth got bored. What _was_ surprising was what he did next.  
  
The Vice-Principals have their own little cabal of chosen students, the ones who they think will lead the school to greatness. Seth ditched you two and joined them, leaving you and Dean… well, devastated, frankly.  
  
For months, you and Dean waged war (well, a non-violent war, one that didn’t involve anything that could get you expelled) on the McMahons and their minions until the fight ended: the McMahons (quietly) acknowledged your superiority, Seth came back after the McMahons made it clear that they only valued him for his test scores, and Dean… well.  
  
Dean doesn’t forgive and he doesn’t forget.  
  
And why should he? He was shattered by Seth’s betrayal, and while he accepted Seth’s return, he’s made it very clear that Seth hurt him bad, and that’s not something he’ll just forget about.  
  
As for your opinion… Seth stabbed you in the back and got stabbed in turn, and he’s still feeling the heat for it. It’s not even, but it’s pretty close.  
  
But yeah, you do kinda want to kick him in the dick occasionally. 

And by ‘occasionally’, you mean ‘most of the time’.  
  
And now you’re going to change the subject.

  
  
==>ROMAN: GO TALK TO DEAN.  
  
Cautiously, you approach your best friend. Unlike Dean, you actually don’t mind this prom idea. You’d like to meet some of the people from the other schools, and hey, you get to get out of the dorm and socialise with people other than Seth and Dean for once. What’s not to like?

  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--

\-- Roman Reigns [RR] began questioning Dean Ambrose [DA] --

RR: Dean?  
DA: What?  
RR: You OK?  
DA: I’m fine.  
RR: Really?  
DA: …no.  
RR: Want to talk about it?  
DA: I _want_ to kick that ratfucker’s nuts up between his ears.  
RR: Oh.  
DA: Yeah, _oh_.  
RR: You’re wearing a tux, Dean. You can’t kick people in the nuts when you’re wearing a tux. It’s not cool.  
DA: James Bond would.  
RR: Dean, you’re like the total opposite of James Bond.  
DA: …shut up.  
RR: Come on, man. A few hours and we can get out of here.  
DA: I need a fucking drink.  
RR: Then go get one.  
DA: Not water.  
RR: Dean…  
DA: There’s no alcohol here. None. Not even a fucking glass of champagne or something.  
RR: Nobody here’s older than 19, Dean. That’d be breaking the law. And besides, you know they’ll kick you out if they catch you with weed or anything.  
DA: OK, get me some weed so I can get out of here.  
RR: _Dean.  
_ DA: …fine.

  
\--END PROM LOG--

==>

Well, that went well. Not much else you can do, now.

May as well go do something else.

 

  
==>BE SETH.  
  
You are now SETH ROLLINS, and you are feeling very ON EDGE.

(And by that, you mean you’re tense and a little paranoid, not that you’re feeling like you’re having sexual relations with a certain teacher. Because you’ve never done anything like that. Honest.)

  
  
==>SETH: APPRAISE YOUR CURRENT SITUATION.  
  
Look, whatever it is, it’s not your fault.

  
  
==>SETH: APPRAISE THE PROM’S CURRENT SITUATION, NOT WHATEVER YOU THINK YOU’RE BEING ACCUSED OF.  
  
…you can do that.  
  
You’ve been talking to Randy Orton, who’s part of the McMahon cabal. The Vice-Principals aren’t actually here tonight- well, they’ll be giving a short speech once everyone’s arrived, but they’ll be leaving afterwards.  
  
They’re not in the room right now, and even if they were, it’s more than your life’s worth to approach them, even if it’s just to ask about how the prom setup’s going.

  
  
==>SETH: EXPLAIN WHY, EXACTLY, THE MCMAHONS KICKED YOU OUT.  
  
When you joined them, you knew you’d be losing invaluable study buddies in Dean and Roman, but you thought you’d be getting extra incitement in the form of the Vice-Principals constantly staring over your shoulder, silently ‘encouraging’ you to do better. And yeah, you knew there would be perks, but you weren’t in it for the perks.  
  
What you _weren’t_ expecting was the bit where they blatantly coddled you and everyone else in the cabal. You got good marks, sure, but it definitely wasn’t with their help. No, it was with your own hard work, and not a single person helped you in the slightest.

You also weren’t expecting Dean and Roman to react the way they did, but in hindsight, you were an absolute moron for thinking that they’d react any other way.

And you really weren’t expecting the level of dysfunction you got from the others in the cabal. You had to do a lot of things you aren’t proud of just to survive. You thought WWE High was cutthroat, but it’s nothing compared to the cabal.  
  
There’s six of them right now: Randy Orton, JAMIE NOBLE, JOEY MERCURY, NIKKI and BRIE BELLA, and ALICIA FOX. You were never on especially good terms with any of them, and you certainly aren’t now.  
  
Well, except Orton. Orton doesn’t really care about what the McMahons think he should say or do. He’s just in the cabal for the perks he gets. And he’s a pretty decent guy to deal with: he only likes or dislikes people based on how they deal with him or his friends, not based on what people tell him to think, no matter who those people are. You carefully avoided pissing him off, so he’s fine with the occasional chat.  
  
You avoid Noble and Mercury as much as you can, now. They’re these two weird kids who get pretty good marks, but who seem reliant on the McMahons for some reason. You have no idea why and you won’t ask. They’re OK, you guess, but you know they have no reason to give two fucks about you, even though you’re a hell of a lot nicer to them than the others were.  
  
As for the Bellas and Alicia… ugh. Nikki wants to be at the top, and Brie’s following in her wake. Alicia’s their personal remora, trying desperately to be relevant by teaming up with them. They never liked you for being successful without the McMahons’ help, and you returned the dislike.  
  
You’re done thinking about them. Can you do something else?

 

==>SETH: STOP AVOIDING THE SUBJECT AND EXPLAIN WHY YOU’RE NOT IN THE CABAL ANYMORE.

…you guess you walked right into that one.

OK, OK.

The McMahons had a lot of faith in you when you first joined them, and they made it very clear that they expected amazing things from you. You did well on the first few tests and assignments, but then reality smacked you in the face.

There was a major exam coming up. The kind of exam that you needed to study for weeks to get good marks on. A nationwide exam, an exam you knew you had to do well on. An exam that would determine a big chunk of your overall grade for the subject. An exam that would prove that you were the best of the best and deserved to be in the cabal- _if_ you could get the right marks.

Dean and Roman were making your life hell in every way they could. You had no one to study with. The entire school thought you were a dickbag and a traitor who’d sell his own mother out. The rest of the cabal were either jealous of how the McMahons favoured you or were too busy focusing on their own studies. The only person who was anything that even remotely resembled sympathetic was Orton, but you two weren’t really friends, and you knew you couldn’t rely on him.

You bombed the exam so bad they kicked you out of the cabal the moment they knew your results, and you didn’t even care because you knew how much you’d fucked everything up.

You told Dean and Roman everything. You begged for their forgiveness, actually got on your knees and begged. They took you back- God knows why- but you knew then and there that by joining the cabal, you’d made the biggest mistake of your life.

It’s hard being you. It’s hard and nobody understands. You haven’t stopped feeling like shit since.

You need a distraction.

  
==>SETH: GO TALK TO SOMEONE ELSE.  
  
You look around the room. There are quite a few people, but not many of them will give you the time of day.  
  
You have… let’s see.  
  
You have four options: PAIGE, KEVIN OWENS, BECKY LYNCH and CESARO.  
  
Hmmm.  
  
You decide to go for the one who won’t fuck around with you. And then you get an idea.

  
  
==>SETH: GO TALK TO KEVIN.  
  
You approach Kevin slowly, carefully, and obviously. Not that you're scared or anything.  
  
Kevin gives you the world’s most uninterested look, and you relax a little.  
  
Kevin Owens is a hell of a guy, but you’re not scared of him. You’re not even scared of his penchant for punching people who piss him off. Not even when the two of you repeatedly clashed back when you both attended ROH High, and you pissed him off a lot. Really, you’re not.  
  
But he’s a hell of a student. He studied at both ROH High and PWG High before he came to NXT, and he dominated all three schools, shoving rivals aside and boasting of his high scores. As well he might. And even after all your clashes over the years, you grew to respect each other. Owens is a scumbag, but he’s a scumbag who knows what he’s doing and knows how to win. That’s something you can appreciate.  
  
However, that’s not the reason you’re going to talk to him.  
  
See, this prom is going to have students and chaperones from five different schools all mingling over the course of several hours. Alcohol (because there’s no way that nobody’s gonna smuggle some in) will be involved. Hell, you heard that there’s a karaoke machine set up in another room, and you just know that whatever goes on with that can’t possibly end well.  
  
Chaos is going to ensue, chaperones or no chaperones.  
  
And given that Kevin knows people from every school that’s attending except LU High (like he’d want to- you’ve heard that people get _killed_ there), you’re willing to bet that he’s got some kind of plan to make things even crazier.  
  
It’s what you’d do.

And you’re more than willing to help.

It’s not like you’re really going to get into this whole prom thing, after all. You don't think you'll dance tonight- guilty feet have got no rhythm, after all.

But you’re definitely up for some chaos.  
  
  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--

\-- Seth Rollins [SR] began talking to Kevin Owens [KO] --

SR: Hey, man.  
KO: What?  
SR: How’re you doing?  
KO: What the fuck do you want, Rollins?  
SR: Uh.  
KO: Try using actual words.  
SR: So what’s your plan?  
KO: Don’t know what you’re talking about.  
SR: Come on, Kev. There’s no way you haven’t arranged some kind of scheme to set this place on fire.  
KO: …  
SR: I’m happy to help, is all I’m saying.  
KO: …  
SR: I mean, seriously, I don’t like that this is compulsory any more than you do.  
KO: …  
SR: You’re listening, right?  
KO: …Seth.  
SR: Yeah?  
KO: If you ever call me Kev again, I will rip your balls off and make you eat them.  
SR: …  
KO: Now fuck off.

\--END PROM LOG--

  
==>SETH: FUCK OFF.

  
Well, that didn’t go well. 

You retreat to a safe distance and try not to stare angrily at the oblivious murder bear that is Kevin Owens.

At least you know it’s not personal. Kevin just hates everyone, excepting certain guys he’s fucked.

But you still want to know about his plan.  
  
Hmm. Maybe…

  
  
==>BE KEVIN.  
  
Voulez-vous être moi?

Vous ne pouvez pas être moi. Si vous ne pouvez pas me comprendre.

En plus. Vous ne pouvez pas être moi. Si vous ne pouvez pas me baiser.

 

  
==>READER: HUH?

Oops. Looks like you can’t be Kevin right now! You guess you’ll just have to try again later, or figure out what he wants first.  
  
So… now what?

 

==>READER: RESORT TO YOUR PREVIOUS OPTION.

You are now Seth again, and you are extremely annoyed.

  
  
==>SETH: FIND SOMEONE LESS HOSTILE TO TALK TO.  
  
You stop trying to come up with new plans to get Kevin to tell you his plan and reconsider the others. You don’t feel that keen on talking to any of the other three. You’re stuck with either Dean or Roman, and you’ve already…  
  
Hmmm. You haven’t talked to Roman at all today.

  
  
==>SETH: GO TALK TO ROMAN.  
  
You walk over to Roman and give him the friendliest smile you can muster.

(You’re pretty sure that the exasperated sigh you just heard was a figment of your imagination.)

  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--

\-- Seth Rollins [SR] began casually talking to Roman Reigns [RR] --

SR: Roman!  
RR: Seth.  
SR: How are you?  
RR: Seth…  
SR: Come on, can’t we just talk? We’re friends!  
RR: You’re an asshole.  
SR: We’re still friends.  
RR: And you’re still an asshole. What do you want?  
SR: …I’m bored.  
RR: Seriously?  
SR: Nobody else is here. We’re all just standing around doing fuck all. What else am I meant to do?  
RR: Oh, for… go play Candy Crush or something.  
SR: I don’t play Candy Crush.  
RR: Heretic. Then go… oh.  
SR: What?  
RR: Turn around.  
  
\--END PROM LOG--

 

 **== >**  
You turn around.  
  
The door at the far side of the room has opened, and coming through it now are the students from NXT High.  
  
Finally, things are starting to happen.

  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--

SR: They don’t look too happy, do they?  
RR: Nope.  
SR: …  
RR: …  
SR: Is it just me, or can things only go downhill from here?  
RR: It’s not just you.

\--END PROM LOG--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kevin's speech translates as 'Do you want to be me? You cannot be me. If you cannot understand me. Further. You cannot be me. If you cannot fuck me", aka what Damara says in Openbound if you try to be her as Meenah or Horuss before you unlock her. It's not Canadian French, but Google Translate didn't have a Canadian French option and I didn't have a translator, so I figured that going with Google Translated standard French would fit the reference better, since Damara's speech is Google Translated Japanese.


	2. act one, scene two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are again with chapter two. I swear to God, coding this thing is going to give me a nervous breakdown some day. It'll probably be a while between chapters until I can work up the nerve to code the damn things. Anyway, this chapter is... weird, because I apparently randomly reference episodes of NXT that probably nobody remembers, as well as random episodes of the JBL and Cole Show. And of course it got dark. *sighs* Anyway, I hope you all like it, and if I didn't tag something, please tell me so I can fix it ASAP. Happy reading. :)

==>BE A STUDENT FROM NXT HIGH.  
  
Your name is TYLER BREEZE, and this entire prom is an AFFRONT to your BEAUTY.  
  
You were not consulted about the DÉCOR. You were not consulted about the GUEST LIST. You were not consulted about the DRESS CODE. You were not consulted about the MENU.  
  
You were not, in fact, consulted about anything, and that is a _crime._  
  
And when you demanded to be consulted, as should have been your right given your status as the most beautiful person in NXT High, Vice-Principal Regal told you to get out of his office or risk suspension like the _uggo_ he is.  
  
You were going to stay in your room and write another essay on why selfies do so count as homework for MR TENSAI while you brooded over the crime that ADRIAN NEVILLE committed against you and ignored all of your mother’s phone calls, voice mail messages and emails, but Regal told you that you had to go to the prom whether you wanted to or not. Which is bullshit.  
  
So here you are, walking through the doors of the hall in the most boring outfit anyone could ever conceive of, as inflicted on you by Regal for your ‘past transgressions’, aka the fact that you decided a few months ago that the set class times are for other people, and hence never show up on time.  
  
You’d like to say you don’t care, but not when you look at the _thing_ you’re stuck wearing.

It’s a suit. It’s black. You’re wearing a white shirt under it, and a grey tie over it.  
  
This is an _outrage._

  
  
==>TYLER: EXAMINE YOUR FELLOW NXT HIGH STUDENTS.  
  
What? _What?_ Who _cares_ about the other students? You’re wearing a _black suit_ with a _white shirt_ and a _grey tie!_ This is the most _hideous, boring, aesthetically desolate_ colour combination in existence, and you know what’s worse? You know what?

  
  
==>TYLER: WHAT?  
  
Regal _took your phone away._ This is _complete bullshit._ And you only have one reaction to that. You want to _explode._ Preferably-

Ugh. One of the uggos in your class is demanding your attention.

Well. EMMA is at least on the road to being tolerable, and that dress does look very nice on her. She looks good in red. You suppose you’ll give her a moment of your time. Anything’s better than thinking about your hideous clothes.

  
  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--

\-- Emma [E] began demanding the attention of Tyler Breeze [TB] --

E: Tyler, hey.  
TB: What do _you_ want?  
E: You look kinda pissed off.  
TB: Kind of? _Kind of?_  
E: Whoa there. You OK?  
TB: _Do I look OK?_  
E: What’s wrong, mate?  
TB: I am _not_ your mate!  
E: Chill out, dude, just tell me what’s wrong.  
TB: What’s- what’s- _ugh!_ You _uggos_ are so _stupid!_ How can you not tell what’s wrong? Look at me! _Look at me!_  
E: I’m looking at you, Tyler.  
TB: And you can’t see it? These clothes are an _abomination!_  
E: They’re not that bad.  
TB: Are you _trying_ to make my head explode?  
E: Haha. Nah. You look good.  
TB: It’s all right for you! You girls get to wear whatever you like, and I’m stuck in this _hideous_ suit and this _awful_ shirt and this _disgusting_ tie!  
E: That’s not actually true, you know.  
TB: _What?_  
E: We don’t get to wear whatever we like. We have to wear dresses, or skirts. And we’re not allowed to wear certain colours. Mostly anything fluoro.  
TB: Fluoro is disgusting.  
E: No arguments here. Look, can’t you just go look at stuff on Instagram-  
TB: Regal took my phone.  
E: He what?  
TB: He told me I’m not allowed to have it at all today. And if I get caught borrowing anyone else’s phone for any other purpose than an emergency tonight, their phone gets confiscated too and we’re both getting detention.  
E: What the hell did you do to piss him off that much?  
TB: Apparently he objected to me politely asking him to include me on the committee that oversaw the prom details.  
E: Oh. So you kept asking him, like, ten times a day, every day?  
TB: …no.  
E: *sarcastically* Right.  
TB: I wouldn’t expect _you_ to understand.  
E: Because I’m an uggo, yeah, yeah. Why don’t you go talk to Adrian?  
TB: Don’t. Even. Start.  
E: Huh?  
TB: Don’t even say that _name.  
_ E: Did you two fight or something?  
TB: *glares*  
E: OK, OK. Look, why don’t you go get a drink or something?  
TB: Do you really think soda will help?  
E: No, I mean Hideo and Finn brought in some booze. Go sneak a shot or something. Might help.  
TB: They brought booze?  
E: Well, _duh._ I mean, this is gonna be a clusterfuck. At least booze will help dull the pain.  
TB: We’re all underage, though.  
E: Not where I come from! *grins*  
TB: OK, one, there’s definitely people here who are under 18, and two, no way will that fly with any of these uggo chaperones.  
E: Don’t care. They’ll never find out. You really think any of these guys will be able to tell if we’ve been drinking? They’re all fucking nuts as it is.  
TB: …good point.  
E: *smiles*  
TB: …that’s a really good idea. Thanks, Emma.  
E: No problem!

\--END PROM LOG--

  
==>TYLER: GO GET BOOZE, AND WHILE YOU’RE AT IT, EXAMINE YOUR FELLOW NXT HIGH STUDENTS.

 _Ahem._ You’re going to get the booze, sure, but you are _not_ some kind of circus animal, doing tricks for treats.  
  
You will do things based on whether _you_ want to do them or not, and not because some impudent voice is making ridiculous demands of you.  
  
So there.

  

  
==>BE SOMEONE MORE AMENABLE TO SUGGESTIONS.  
  
You are now Emma, and you don’t think AMERICA will ever stop CONFUSING YOU.  
  
Seriously. These people drive on the _right_. Who _does_ that?

  
==>EMMA: EXAMINE YOUR FELLOW NXT HIGH STUDENTS.  
  
Sure!  
  
OK, so you were just talking to Tyler. He’s got a stick up his arse the size of a log, but he’s OK if you only talk about certain topics.  
  
Unfortunately, it’s a very small number of topics, so it does get boring after a while.  
  
He’s heading over to talk to FINN and HIDEO, who are over in the corner with JOE and their suspiciously bulging backpacks. Gee, you wonder what they’ve got in there. Not.  
  
Finn’s the school captain. He’s a really nice guy, even though he’s sharing his brain with a demonic _thing_ that occasionally makes him speak in tongues and kick holes through the walls. You’ve seen weirder, but a lot of people talk behind his back and say that he belongs in LU High, which is just really unfair. Sure, Finn’s weird, but he’s not _that_ weird.  
  
Hideo’s his best friend, an exchange student from the same school in Japan that Finn went to, NJPW Academy. He’s really nice and really smart, and he’s got a great sense of humour. Yeah, OK, maybe he doesn’t have the strongest grasp of English, but you’ve met native speakers who don’t speak it as well as he does, so you’re not saying anything.  
  
Joe’s a new kid, formerly from ROH High, but he fits right in with all of you. He works hard, takes no shit, gets good results and likes to punch people. Just like ninety per cent of your yearmates. They’re all talking to Tyler, so you’ll just examine your other classmates before you go interrupt or anything.  
  
Over to your right, SASHA and Becky are talking. They’re an interesting case: Sasha’s a former year captain, and she’s studying at WWE High and NXT High at the same time. Becky’s moved up to WWE High full-time now, and Sasha’s probably going to join her soon. And good riddance, in your opinion. Neither’s ever been nice to you much.  
  
You can see EVA MARIE and DANA behind them, and you frown a little. Not because you dislike either- quite the contrary, in fact. It’s more because of your other friends. See, NXT has a separate set of classes for students who need to be brought up to speed with NXT’s style before they can go to the school itself. You know several of them, and you tried to get GIONNA and NIA invites. Unfortunately, Regal told you that they couldn’t come, since they weren’t technically official NXT High students yet. Which is bullshit, but you had no way of appealing.  
  
At least you’ve got a plan for later. You’re hoping to get PEYTON ROYCE, BILLIE KAY and BUDDY MURPHY together for a good round of reminiscing about home. By which you mean, you’ve got a couple of bags of Fantales, some Twisties, some Violet Crumbles, some Kirks lemonade, some INXS and Kylie CDs, and just about every good Australian movie made in the past twenty years. Once prom is over, you’re going to get your friends together and be as Australian as you can be. Which is pretty fucking Australian, for the record.  
  
OK, so Tyler’s got a bottle of something, and he’s heading over to talk to some of the WWE High kids. Maybe you’ll go talk to Finn and Hideo and Joe, now that they’re available.

  
==>EMMA: GO CHAT TO THE GUYS.

You take a quick look behind you and note that everyone else has finally got in the damn room. Your chaperones, MR GRAVES and MS TAYLOR, are trying to get everyone moving so they don’t block the door. After all, the students from the other schools could arrive at any moment.  
  
Buddy and his ‘study mate’ WESLEY BLAKE walk past and wave. You like them a lot, and not just because you and Buddy share a hometown.

(Though how the fuck he wound up with a first name like Buddy, which possibly the most unAustralian name ever, is something that eludes you. Then again, Peyton and Billie are stuck in the same boat, even though they were born and raised in Sydney.)  
  
They’re just good guys, you think. You like them, even though they keep hanging out with ALEXA BLISS, who’s… weird. She used to be really nice, and then she turned into a stereotypical mean girl practically overnight. She’s teamed up with Buddy and Wes, and admittedly, they do get really good results now. Even though Buddy and Wes were getting great marks by themselves, and didn’t really need any help. People are strange.

  
==>EMMA: STOP GOING ON TANGENTS AND GO TALK TO THE GUYS ALREADY.  
  
Oh. Yeah. Whoops.  
  
You walk over to the secluded corner where Joe, Hideo and Finn are standing around casually and give them a nonthreatening smile.

  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--

\-- Emma [E] began talking to Finn Bálor [FB], Hideo Itami [HI] and Samoa Joe [SJ] --

E: Boys.  
FB: Emma. Good to see you.  
SJ: What do you want?  
FB: Be nice.  
HI: How are you?  
E: I’m great, thanks. How are you guys?  
HI: I am good, thank you very much.  
FB: Oh, I’m good.  
SJ: Fine. Now what do you want?  
HI: Joe. Be more polite.  
SJ: Oh, for…  
E: Look, it’s pretty obvious that you guys have got all the booze.  
FB: Keep your voice down!  
E: OK, OK. You guys have got the booze, but you’re all standing around in a corner with really full backpacks and you’re not doing anything. Can you say suspicious? I can!  
HI: She has a point.  
SJ: So…  
E: I’m just helping you guys out, so Taylor and Graves don’t come over and find out what you’re doing.  
SJ: Graves? Come on. He wouldn’t give a fuck if we brought coke in, as long as we gave him some and promised to only sell little doses.  
E: But Taylor would care. And so would Kane and Stratus.  
HI: Again… she has a point.  
SJ: So what do you want in exchange?  
E: Right now? Nothing. Later? We’ll see.  
FB: All right, you’ve made your point.  
E: And here comes Alexa. So I’ll say bye for now. Cheers, boys.

\--END PROM LOG--

==>EMMA: GO TALK TO YOUR BEST FRIEND.

With that done, it’s time you went and said hello to Dana.  
  
You and Dana make an odd pair, you know that. She’s a relatively new student, but the two of you got along like a house on fire from the moment you met. You teamed up to study so you could defeat CHARLOTTE and BAYLEY on a test, and found yourselves in the middle of a bitter feud that’s still ongoing.  
  
But all that’s for school. You’re at the formal now, you can let that drop for one night, surely!

  
==>EMMA: REALISE CRUCIAL CULTURAL DIFFERENCES.  
  
Oh, yeah. Prom, not formal. Oops.  
  
You really don’t get why Americans place so much importance on the prom. Back home in Australia, formals are just so much easier. Nobody gives a fuck what you wear or who you go with, and whoever invented the Prom Queen/Prom King thing must have been a sadist. At least the teachers declared that everyone could just come by themselves, no need to ask anyone. Made things a _lot_ simpler.  
  
But that’s for another discussion.  
  
Dana’s just over there, talking to Wes. You hover to one side, not wanting to interrupt. Once they’re done, you approach her.

  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--

==>PROM LOG: BE INTERRUPTED.  
  
You are now the PROM LOG, and you cannot be shown because someone else has barged in and taken control of the fic before you could continue. Really, this is shameful behaviour. You’ll have to put in a complaint with the author.

  
==>READER: RETREAT BEHIND THE FOURTH WALL.  
  
You watch as the fourth wall slowly rebuilds itself. As the final piece falls into place, you blink confusedly, unable to remember what just happened.  
  
Oh, well. You’ll have to reread that last bit later, you guess. As for now, where were you?

 

==>TYLER: TAKE BACK THE VIEWPOINT.  
  
You are now Tyler, and you are _furious_.  
  
Look, Emma may be all right for an uggo, but that does _not_ mean she gets to just take over the damn viewpoint just because you wouldn’t follow the stupid commands.  
  
You are Tyler Breeze, and _nobody_ tells you what to do.

  
==>TYLER: GO TALK TO SOMEONE FROM WWE HIGH.  
  
You immediately forget what you just thought and start looking for someone acceptable to talk to.  
  
Unfortunately, they’re all uggos.

  
==>TYLER: COMPROMISE, FOR FUCK’S SAKE.  
  
…fine. You can do that.  
  
You take another look around and settle on the least uggo person in the place: Sasha Banks.  
  
Yeah, fine, she’ll do.  
  
Sasha is NXT’s other year captain, which is a very non-uggo thing for her to be, and she once teamed up with you to take on those _assholes_ SAMI ZAYN and Bayley on a trivia quiz, which pretty much means that you’re friends now.  
  
OK, you two lost, but _still._

  
\--SHOW PROM LOG— 

\-- Tyler Breeze [TB] began talking to Sasha Banks [SB] --

TB: Sasha.  
SB: Tyler.

\-- Emma [E] joined the chat --

\-- Dana Brooke [DB] joined the chat --

E: Shepard.  
DB: Wrex.  
TB: Will you two please _fuck off?_  
E: Well, _someone_ rudely interrupted our conversation, so I’m interrupting his.  
SB: Emma, I swear to God I will choke you out-  
DB: Want to try something?  
TB: Go flex somewhere else, Dana. Like whatever dumpster you crawled out of-

\-- Corey Graves [CG] joined the chat --

CG: What’s going on here?  
SB: Nothing, sir.  
CG: Uh huh.  
E: We’re just talking, Mr Graves.  
CG: I’m sure. All of you, scatter. And this is your only warning: if I or _any_ of the chaperones see any fighting, everyone involved gets kicked out. It won’t matter who started it and you’re not getting second chances. Understand?  
E, TB, SB, DB: *mumble*  
CG: I said, _do you understand?_  
E: Yeah.  
TB: Yes, Mr Graves.  
SB: Got it.  
DB: Yes, sir.  
CG: Good. And I’d better not hear any screaming or yelling, either. Behave, all of you. We need to set a good example in front of the other schools, even if it’s only us and WWE High here right now. The others could get here at any minute, remember. And you’d all better be on your best behaviour.

\--END PROM LOG--

  
==>TYLER AND COMPANY: FAIL TO SCATTER.  
  
Of course the four of you don’t scatter. Where would the fun be in that?  
  
Instead, what you do is stand around awkwardly until Graves is gone, and then you immediately start glaring at each other.

  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--

\-- Emma [E] started negotiating with Tyler Breeze [TB], Sasha Banks [SB] and Dana Brooke [DB] --

E: Look, can I make a suggestion before anyone starts shouting?  
SB: What?  
E: As much as I’d love to fight you, Sasha, I don’t want to get kicked out. And I don’t think any of you guys do either. Yeah?  
TB: …true.  
DB: Yeah.  
SB: OK.  
E: So let’s just walk away and do this later, like when the prom’s over, OK? No point in ending the fun before it even starts.  
SB: Well… and we all know how pissy Regal will get if NXT kids get kicked out before the prom even starts…  
DB: Yeah, yeah.  
TB: Oh, God, he’d never shut up. And Tensai wouldn’t stop going _on_ and _on_ about it…  
SB: Like anyone listens to him anyway after the thing with Woods.  
E: Oh, ew! Sasha, I did _not_ need to be reminded of that, thank you!  
TB: If I throw up, I’m blaming you, Banks.  
DB: Wait, what?  
E: You don’t want to know, Dana. Trust me.  
DB: No, seriously, what?  
SB: _I’ll_ tell you, Dana. So, like last year, there was a-  
TB: _Hell. No._

\--END PROM LOG--

 

==>TYLER: WALK AWAY AS FAST AS YOU CAN.  
  
You do _not_ want to hear this story again. It’s _disgusting._

 

==>TYLER: RECAP THE STORY QUICKLY SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT ANYMORE.  
  
Ugh. Fine.  
  
Last year, the school gym had this awesome swing. Why? God knows. Swinging isn’t exactly a sport or a way to get real exercise, after all. You don’t know why it was installed, but you do know why it was kept in despite being functionally useless: everyone loved it so much that the students protested vehemently whenever anyone suggested removing it. That is, until… ugh.  
  
Honestly, this part makes you want to throw up, but you suppose you’ll soldier on through it.  
  
So there’s this guy in WWE High, XAVIER WOODS, an NXT alumni. Last year, back when he was an NXT student, the poor guy went to the gym after school to do some exercise and walked in on Mr Tensai swinging on the swing, stark naked. Woods apparently screamed like a castrato and ran like hell, and you can’t blame him for either at all.  
  
When he was asked to explain himself, Mr Tensai pointed out that the gym wasn’t open to students that day and that he had clearance to be there, while Woods didn’t. It was a valid point, but that didn’t really help his case. Neither did him pointing out that he’d had cleaning materials on hand to sanitize the swing afterwards, because that argued that he’d done it before and _nobody_ wanted to contemplate that. However, it was clear that he’d never intended anyone to come across him, though he failed to give a reason for _why_ he was swinging on the swing naked, so while he didn’t get fired, the swing was removed and replaced with equipment that actually belongs in a gym. And not a student objected.

  
==>TYLER: CHANGE THE SUBJECT, FOR GOD’S SAKE.  
  
Oh thank God.  
  
All this fighting and arguing has got you hopelessly ruffled. You’ve got to fix your appearance ASAP. After all, how could you live if the students from the other schools arrived and found you looking so hideous? They’d think everyone in NXT is an uggo.

Admittedly, that’s not too far off the mark, but still. _You_ are most definitely _not_ an uggo, and anyone who makes the mistake of thinking otherwise will be corrected quickly. And quite probably painfully, too.

  
==>TYLER: GO FIX YOUR APPEARANCE.

You start looking for the bathroom, and as you do, you survey the décor.

You don’t know this hotel. It’s a nice one, but not quite as nice as the ones you usually frequent. Then again, you suppose the school can’t afford the kind of hotels your mother usually arranges, mostly because it probably doesn’t have the kind of money your mother has. And you’ll just stop there because you really don’t want to think about your mother right now, because you’re _really_ pissed at her.

Oh, there’s the bathroom. Thank God.  
  
You push open the door and freeze.  
  
There he is, standing at the sink. That _asshole._  
  
Your best friend. Your worst enemy. The most inconsiderate bastard you’ve ever met in your life.  
  
Adrian Neville.  
  
You're going to punch his stupid face in.

  
==>TYLER: SAY HELLO TO ADRIAN.  
  
_No._  
  
You walk into the otherwise-empty bathroom, go to the sink that’s furthest away from him and start adjusting your appearance carefully. You straighten your tie. You neaten your clothes and brush loose hairs off the jacket. You redo your hair and retie your shoes, and when you stand back up, not a hair is out of place.  
  
And while you do, Adrian is just standing there, watching you.  
  
Fucker.  
  
You are not going to talk to him. Not after what he did. You will just walk right out and-

  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--

\-- Adrian Neville [AN] began politely requesting the attention of Tyler Breeze [TB] --

AN: Tyler.  
TB: *ignores him*  
AN: Can’t I even say hi?  
TB: *continues to ignore him*  
AN: Look, I get that you’re angry, but come on. Can’t we talk about this?  
TB: There’s nothing to talk about.  
AN: Yes, there is, and you know it.  
TB: What could you possibly have to say that could make me think that you’re anything more than the most blatantly idiotic _fuckwit_ who ever walked the face of the Earth?  
AN: Well, I- wait. You didn’t call me an uggo.  
TB: Adrian. Do you have any idea how many fucks I have to give about your appearance right now?  
AN: Tyler-  
TB: Zero, Adrian. None. Zip. Zilch. Nada.  
AN: I didn’t think it was that serious-  
TB: Adrian.  
AN: Tyler…  
TB: You _fucked my mother._  
AN: …when you put it like that, it really does sound like I’m a bit of an arsehole, doesn’t it?  
TB: _Sounds like?_  
AN: Tyler, look-  
TB: If you don’t shut the fuck up I swear to God I will break your fucking nose.  
AN: …  
TB: Let me make this clear: I’m not pissed off because you had consensual sex with another adult who just happened to be my mother. I’m pissed off because neither of you seem to realise how _fucking stupid_ that was.  
AN: Tyler-  
TB: You have _nude photos of her_ on your _phone._  
AN: Breezy-  
TB: Anyone could see them, Adrian! _Anyone!_  
AN: I deleted them, Tyler, I’m not a complete fuckwit.  
TB: You were enough of a fuckwit to fuck her in the first place, weren’t you?  
AN: It was a one-time thing. I’ll probably never even talk to her again.  
TB: Not if I have any say in it.  
AN: Tyler-  
TB: Shut up. Just… just shut the fuck up.  
AN: Fine. I’ll go.  
TB: You do that. Don’t even talk to me.

\--END PROM LOG--

  
==>TYLER: TRY TO CALM DOWN.  
  
Once he’s gone, you walk into one of the stalls, push the lid down and sink onto it, your head falling into your hands.  
  
Your appearance is for later. You can fix any damage that occurs because of this. Right now, you have bigger things to worry about, and you don’t know if you can fix them.

  
==>TYLER: EXPLAIN WHY YOUR BEST FRIEND FUCKED YOUR MOTHER.  
  
Like you, your mother is a model. She’s also an actress and a singer, and alternates between them as she sees fit. She’s an international star, and has been for years.  
  
Unfortunately, that has resulted in a certain kind of mindset, the kind where she thinks she can get away with anything because of who she is. This, in turn, has resulted in several arrests for drug possession, many, many affairs, and God knows how many half-siblings you have. You know you’ve got at least one, but there could be as many as ten out there. You’re not sure and you won’t ask.  
  
You don’t know why, of all your possible siblings, you’re the only one she kept, especially since she’s never been married and has had very few long-term relationships. You don’t want to ask about that either, because you know you won’t like the answer.  
  
That being said, you have never once doubted your mother’s love for you. The two of you have an excellent relationship, except for the bit where you have to be the more sensible one who reminds her when she’s doing something wrong.  
  
Such as, for instance, fucking your best friend.  
  
You reach into your coat pocket and withdraw the bottle you got from Hideo. It’s sake, and it’s not very big, but that’s fine. You unceremoniously open the bottle and drink a few mouthfuls.  
  
A little voice in your brain protests that what you’re doing is breaking _so_ many rules and at least one law, but fuck it, _your mother fucked your best friend_.  
  
How the _fuck_ are you meant to recover from that?

  
==>TYLER: YOU STILL HAVEN’T EXPLAINED WHY YOUR BEST FRIEND FUCKED YOUR MOTHER.  
  
Why did he fuck her? Because he was blinded by her tits.  
  
Why did _she_ fuck _him?_ God only knows.  
  
OK, that’s not fair. You have a good idea why. It’s because she saw something she liked in him and decided that she wanted a better look. By which you mean sex.  
  
And ordinarily, you wouldn’t care because everyone involved was a consenting adult… except that your mother is nearly fifty and while Adrian is eighteen, he’s never had a girlfriend or had sex before now. And he’s still a high school student. And he’s your best friend.  
  
That’s shady as fuck, even for your mother.

God. He’s a stupid kid with no common sense who fell head over heels in lust with a mature, experienced, calculating older woman who fucked him senseless without really caring about the consequences. How is that in any way right, just because he happened to be (barely) legal?  
  
And neither of them seem to have realised what could happen if anyone finds out about it: your mother’s career could be ruined. You’d probably have to leave NXT High. _Your_ career might be ruined by association.Even if you wanted to, you’d probably never be allowed to talk to Adrian again. And so on, and so forth.  
  
Why the _fuck_ do you have to be the brains of this clusterfuck? Why can’t you just have a nice normal mother and a nice normal best friend who don’t fuck each other?  
  
Why can’t-  
  
Wait. Someone just opened the bathroom door.

 

==>TYLER: MAKE A QUICK ESCAPE.

You put the lid back on the bottle, shove the bottle back in your coat pocket, flush the toilet, even though you didn’t use it, and leave the stall.  
  
There’s three other guys in the bathroom, but you ignore them. Instead, you wash your hands, straighten yourself up, and walk outside. It’s only when the door swings shut behind you that you see the crucial detail.  
  
There’s a shitload of people in the room, more than there were earlier: the ROH and PWG students have arrived.  
  
_Great._


	3. act one, scene three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are again. This one is... well. I can only hope that it's as coherent as it was in my head. I can't really think of much to say about it, except that I hope I didn't fuck it up, and that I absolutely do not and have never endorsed the consumption of alcohol in order to aid in fixing relationship problems. For the record, the bit about Johnny joking about getting Candice pregnant actually happened- she was the number one contender to his Smash Wrestling title at the time, and he kept making jokes about it on Twitter. What can I say, I get inspiration from strange places. If I've forgotten to tag anything, please do tell me. Hope you enjoy it. :)

==>BE A STUDENT FROM PWG HIGH.  
  
Your name is CANDICE LERAE, and you REALLY DON’T WANT TO BE HERE RIGHT NOW.  
  
You could be STUDYING. You could be PLAYING VIDEO GAMES. You could be LISTENING TO METAL. You could be BROODING OVER YOUR FUCKED-UP LOVE LIFE. You could be TRYING TO BLOCK OUT THE SOUND OF YOUR ROOMMATE’S NIGHTLY ORGY.  
  
All of those would have been infinitely preferable to this clusterfuck. But no, instead, you’re walking through a room full of people you mostly don’t know in a green dress that doesn’t fit you well and really isn’t your color, and you’re completely prepared to punch out anyone who gives you shit for it.  
  
Unfortunately, the dress you usually wear to formal events got cut up by a pair of jackasses known as the YOUNG BUCKS, who are also in attendance tonight. They also stole every other dress and skirt you own. Since you aren’t allowed to wear pants to the prom, they’d obviously thought you’d have to stay home; instead, you borrowed this dress from your friend CHRISTINA VON EERIE and refused to be daunted. Even though Christina’s about a head taller than you, so the dress really doesn’t fit you well.  
  
JOEY thinks it looks good on you. Then again, Joey thinks anything with a vagina looks good by definition, so he’s no help.

Speaking of Joey, when you look around, you can’t see him anywhere. That’s… probably not a good thing.

 

==>CANDICE: LOCATE JOEY.

…yeah, you probably shouldn’t let him out of your sight for more than a minute. At least not this early in the night.

Oh, there he is, talking to the NXT girls… and one of them just slapped him and stormed off. Fuck.  
  
You refuse to get thrown out of the prom this early. It took you this fucking long to get here, you may as well see it through. And yeah, it wouldn’t be you getting thrown out, it’d be Joey, but he’s your best fucking friend and you two are in this shit together. Where he goes, you go.  
  
You grab Joey’s arm and haul him off to the closest unoccupied spot.

  
  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--  
  
\-- Candice LeRae [CLR] began berating Joey Ryan [JR] --  
  
CLR: Don’t. You. Dare.  
JR: What?  
CLR: We just _got_ here, Joey.  
JR: _What?_  
CLR: Look, if you want to stare at their asses, sure, but don’t you _dare_ start any fights!  
JR: Candice, when have I ever intentionally started a fight that wasn’t about defending someone?  
CLR: Joey, when was the last time you started a fight by being a sleazy jackhole?  
JR: …fine.  
CLR: Look, I don’t want to be here either, but we don’t have a choice. Let’s just play nice, catch up with some of the others, and you can have your orgy later, if any of these girls will pityfuck you.  
JR: That’s not fair!  
CLR: How much oil did you put on your chest?  
JR: It wasn’t _that_ much!  
CLR: *pointed stare*  
JR: _Fine._  
CLR: So can we just try to play nice for once?  
JR: Do I have to?  
CLR: _Yes.  
_ JR: All right, all right.  
CLR: Good.

\--END PROM LOG--

  
==>CANDICE: REFLECT ON YOUR MISERABLE EXISTENCE.  
  
You hate your _life,_ and that’s really all there is to say about it.

  
  
==>CANDICE: TAKE IT FROM THE TOP?  
  
_Fine._  
  
OK, to be fair, you like PWG High. Sure, it’s pretty chaotic, since lots of the students go back and forth to study at other high schools as they please, but it’s _fun._  
  
It was at PWG High that you met your best friend in the world, Joey Ryan. Admittedly, you started out as bitter rivals because he propositioned you, you told him to go fuck a chainsaw and he took offense to your phrasing. From there, you fought like wildcats until Principal SUPER DRAGON got fed up and locked you both in an empty classroom after telling you that you either had to resolve your differences or face expulsion for all the chaos you’d caused. The former was acceptable, but the latter was blatantly unfair because you really hadn’t caused that much chaos- you never fought in public, and the most damage you’d ever caused were a few bruises and sore throats-, and it was that unfairness that led you to conclude two things: one, Super Dragon doesn’t like you, and two, Super Dragon is a dick.  
  
But he couldn’t have been anticipating what happened instead: you and Joey not only resolved your differences, you became the best of friends. Since then, you’ve been taking on anyone who gives you shit, and scoring brilliant marks in the process.

  
  
==>CANDICE: SO WHAT’S THE PROBLEM?  
  
Oh, God, where do you _start?_  
  
Well, there’s the bit where sharing a state with LU High has led to PWG High getting a reputation for having some of LU High’s freakiness rubbing off on you, even though PWG High is in San Diego and LU High’s in Sacramento, i.e. at the opposite ends of the state. As a result, you’ve got a bit of a stigma attached to you for no logical reason whatsoever. And that sucks.  
  
Then there’s the bit where the fucking Young Bucks seem to have made it their mission to make your and Joey’s lives hell because you two knocked them out of the top spots in the year, in addition to the hell they already give you because they’re Super Dragon’s pet students and he hates you. You’re giving as good as you get, but you just want it to be _over,_ and they’re not giving up.  
  
_Then_ you’ve got this stupid fucking prom. You did not sign up for this. You did not want anything to do with this. But the best students in the year (who hadn’t been noticeably evil) were all chosen. Super Dragon couldn’t deny your and Joey’s marks, as much as he probably wanted to, so you all got shipped off to fucking Topeka for this stupid prom.  
  
_Fuck._  
  
And last but not least… _her._  
  
You sneak a look over at the other side of the room, where LAURA JAMES is talking to BRIAN CAGE and JOHNNY GARGANO.  
  
Laura James. PWG’s new exchange student from England, who came in like two months ago and yet is somehow doing well enough to get to go to the prom.  
  
You’re head over heels in love with her and you don’t have the slightest idea of what to do about it.  
  
Worse, you can’t ask anyone for advice, either. Christina tends to take a very forthright approach when it comes to dating, and that’s something you can’t really replicate. B-BOY told you flatly that while he’s happy to give you advice on other things, relationships are a topic he won’t talk about unless it involves hiding corpses. And Joey… oh God. Joey’s approach to relationships is to fuck anyone who’s up for it wherever and whenever he can, which usually ends up being your room, usually while you’re actually in there, usually doing your homework or studying. 

It’s not as awkward as it sounds, though, because you lost the ability to care after the third or fourth time. You also picked up an immunity to the sound of orgasmic moans, and you can tell when they’re faking it, even when you’re listening to Slayer at the same time.  
  
Truly, you are a girl of many talents. You are the best fake orgasm detector. It’s you.

  
  
==>CANDICE: GO DO SOMETHING OTHER THAN BROOD.  
  
You stomp over to where CHRIS HERO is leaning against a wall, casually observing passers by.  
  
You can talk to Chris, at least. You guys met back when you first started at PWG. You got in a relationship that went really bad really fast, and Chris helped pull you out of it. The two of you dated for a while and eventually concluded that it wasn’t working, thanks to some help from his dickbag friends. But in the end, everything worked out, and he’s one of your best friends. 

That being said, you still want to kick Cesaro in the dick a few times.  
  
You can’t ask Chris for relationship advice, though. _Awkward._

  
  
==>CANDICE: TALK TO CHRIS.  
  
Yeah, you’re probably just going to dump all your non-relationship problems on his head at once. You are such a terrible friend. But you’ve just had enough.  
  
  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--  
  
\-- Candice LeRae [CLR] began complaining to Chris Hero [CH] --  
  
CLR: Hey, Chris.  
CH: Candice! You look gorgeous.  
CLR: Oh, God, don’t say that. I hate this stupid dress.  
CH: I think it looks great.  
CLR: Don’t lie, it looks awful.  
CH: It’s new, right?  
CLR: No, it’s Christina’s. The fucking Young Bucks cut up my dress and stole all my skirts and this was the only one I could borrow in time.  
CH: Shit. Want some help making them pay for it?  
CLR: I don’t know. Maybe. Don’t get me wrong, I’m going to fuck them up for this. But I don’t know if I’ll do it tonight. I just want tonight to be over already.  
CH: That bad?  
CLR: Do you have any alcohol?  
CH: No, but Johnny’s got some.  
CLR: Oh thank God.  
CH: Seriously, what’s up?  
CLR: I don’t think…  
CH: Come on, you can tell me.  
CLR: …  
CH: …  
CLR: …promise you won’t laugh.  
CH: Of course I won’t.  
CLR: I’m in love.  
CH: Oh.  
CLR: I’m in love and I don’t know what to do.  
CH: …shit.  
CLR: I _know!_  
CH: OK, so who is it? Is he here? Do you know him well? Do I know him?  
CLR: Her, yes she’s here, and no, I don’t. I don’t know if you do, either. Like, she and I’ve said hi a few times, casual conversation before classes, you know how it is…  
CH: Yeah, I get you. And you’ve got a perfect opportunity now.  
CLR: I do?  
CH: It’s the prom. A whole night of dancing and socialising. Perfect time to really talk to her. Give her a chance to get to know you, whoever she is.  
CLR: Laura.  
CH: _Oh._ Yeah, I get you. She’s gorgeous.  
CLR: I _know._ And I can’t talk to her. I just can’t.  
CH: Come on, Candy. You can do it.  
CLR: No, I can’t.  
CH: Yeah, you can. I’ll help.  
CLR: No, I… wait, what?  


  
\--END PROM LOG--  
  
  
==>CANDICE: FREAK OUT.  
  
Oh God. Oh God. You just told Chris about the girl you’re in love with. You just non-verbally asked for his advice. He’s dragging you over to talk to Laura right now. _Oh God._  
  
Oh God. She looks so fucking beautiful. She looks amazing. She’s wearing this beautiful dark gold dress and her hair’s curled and she’s _gorgeous_. You feel so inadequate next to her, in your borrowed green dress with your hair in a ponytail. She has put in all the effort. You have put in precisely no effort. It shows. Oh God.  
  
Your life _sucks._  
  
And she’s smiling at you and Chris in a completely sincere way, and she doesn’t even look confused. Even though he’s literally dragging you over to her. How does this girl even exist?

  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--  
  
\-- Chris Hero [CH] and Candice LeRae [CLR] began talking to Laura James [LJ]--  
  
CH: Hey, Laura.  
LJ: Chris! Great to see you. You look suave!  
CH: And you look stunning as always.  
LJ: Flatterer.  
CH: You know Candice, right?  
LJ: I certainly do. Hey, Candice!  
CLR: …hi.  
LJ: How are you?  
CLR: …good, thanks. How are you?  
LJ: I’m great, thanks! You look good!  
CLR: …you really think so?  
LJ: Of course! Green really suits you.  
CLR: …thanks…  
LJ: So how are you finding the prom?  
CH: Oh, I just look around and there it is.  
LJ: That is the worst joke ever.  
CH: I know, I know.  
LJ: You are the worst!  
CH: I know. In all seriousness, it’s only just started. It’ll probably heat up soon.  
LJ: I hope so. What about you, Candy? Can I call you Candy?  
CLR: …meep.  
LJ: Sorry?  
CLR: Uh, yeah. Sure.  
LJ: So, how are you finding the prom?  
CLR: It’s, uh… good? I guess?  
LJ: Well, I certainly think so.  
CLR: Uh. Yeah. OK.  
CH: Oh, that’s my phone. Sorry, I’ve got to take this call.  
LJ: Chris! You’re supposed to turn your phone off! Mr Knox won’t be happy if he catches you with it!  
CH: He won’t catch me. I’ll talk to you both once I’m done, all right?  
LJ: Fine. But I hope you realise how much you’re hurting us.  
CH: I’m sure you’ll both live.  


\-- Chris Hero [CH] has left the chat --

LJ: So, Candy.  
CLR: So, Laura.  
LJ: Are you all right? You don’t seem well.  
CLR: Fine, I’m fine.  
LJ: Are you sure?  
CLR: Yeah. Absolutely. Uh… I have to go.  
LJ: What, already? But-

\-- Candice LeRae [CLR] has left the chat --

LJ: …bugger.  


  
\--END PROM LOG--  
  
  
==>CANDICE: TURN AROUND AND RUN LIKE HELL.  
  
Your cheeks are on fire as you make your escape. You don’t run; that would be far too conspicuous. Instead, you walk very quickly in the opposite direction and flop down in a chair that’s out of Laura’s line of sight.

She called you Candy. You only let people who you fuck/have fucked and still like call you Candy. And you know it’s not a premonition of future events, it’s just a stupid coincidence and you being too tongue-tied to say no to her. You fucked it up. You fucked everything up. Your best chance to really talk to her, and you said nothing that meant anything and made yourself look like a massive idiot in the process.

But you _couldn’t_. You couldn’t even look her in the eye, let alone say anything. It was hard enough to get any words out at all. She probably wants nothing to do with you now.  
  
Oh, God, Chris is gonna be so disappointed in you.  
  
Fuck it. You have to fix this mess. You have to make it right. And if you’re gonna do that, you’ll need help, by which you mean alcohol. Yeah, it’s not exactly the best plan, but it’s the best plan you’ve got.

You get up, look around and once you’ve spotted your target, you head toward him with a determined look in your eyes.  
  
It’s time to call out the big guns.

It’s time to talk to Johnny Gargano.

  
==>CANDICE: THIS FUCKING GUY?  
  
Yeah. _This fucking guy._  
  
Johnny Gargano is both one of the best things that’s ever happened to you and one of the worst things to ever happen to you. You can’t decide whether you like or hate him, which is kind of an important question given how often you two fuck.  
  
He’s a casual, charismatic student who’s damn good at what he does. You and he have a weird love/hate relationship that flips all over the place on a regular basis, never staying put for long, and has been that way ever since you two first fucked. You two team up nearly as often as you feud, and do so without rhyme or reason.  
  
And you wouldn’t have it any other way, to be honest.  
  
At the moment, you hate him. This is because there’s a very important exam coming up, and he’s made it his mission to do better than you or die trying. OK, he didn’t say ‘die trying’. He said he’d get you pregnant so you’d either withdraw from the exam or fail it from the stress.  
  
Whether he was joking or not is a question for someone else. You have a habit of taking that shit seriously, so you took action in typical Candice LeRae style: you tied him up, dropped a pillow case over his head, walked him into the workshop, positioned him in front of the biggest vice you could find and then took the pillow case off his head. You then made it absolutely clear that if he actually tried any nefarious tactics to get you to fail or withdraw from _any_ exam, you would crush his balls in that very vice. You then shut him in the nearest broom closet and shoved a chair in front of the door. It took him an hour to get out, so he had ample time to consider your threats.  
  
It seems to have taken, which is a damn good thing. You’d hate to actually have to crush his balls. You like them intact.  
  
  
==>CANDICE: GO TALK TO JOHNNY.  
  
He’s perched in a back corner, his backpack behind him. Excellent. Hopefully he’ll give you some of that booze. If he won’t give it to you, you’re sure you two can work out some terms, even though he looks kinda pissed off right now.  
  
  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--  
  
\-- Candice LeRae [CLR] began talking to Johnny Gargano [JG]--  
  
CLR: Hey, Johnny.  
JG: Candice.  
CLR: You got booze?  
JG: Yeah. So?  
CLR: Give me some.  
JG: Why?  
CLR: Tonight sucks. I need booze.  
JG: Fair enough. Here you go.  
CLR: Thanks.  
JG: No problem.  
  
\--END PROM LOG--  
  
Well. That went strangely smoothly.  
  
==>CANDICE: GO GET DRUNK.  
  
You head to the otherwise-empty bathroom, lean against the sink and take out the bottle.  
  
Hmmm.  
  
Having tried it, you can conclude that this is not a bottle of alcohol.  
  
It is, in fact, a bottle of water.  
  
You did theorise that Johnny might have put vodka or gin in the water bottle to disguise it, but sadly, once you tried it, you found that you were very wrong.  
  
Clearly, this is Johnny’s idea of a joke.  
  
You aren’t laughing.  
  
  
==>CANDICE: BE JEZEBEL IN HELL.

You hyperbolically want to kill him. You want to blow him… away. But you won’t do either of those things.

Instead, you calmly walk over to angry Johnny and keep your voice as calm as you can. Calmly.  
  
  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--  
  
\-- Candice LeRae [CLR] began calmly talking to Johnny Gargano [JG]--  
  
CLR: Johnny, you fucker.  
JG: Candice.  
CLR: This isn’t booze.  
JG: You noticed.  
CLR: Is there a reason why you didn’t give me booze when I asked for booze?  
JG: Why should I give you booze?  
CLR: Because I asked?  
JG: You didn’t ask me very nicely.  
CLR: *grits her teeth* You’re right, I didn’t. I’m sorry.  
JG: Also, I don’t give booze away for free.  
CLR: You didn’t tell me that.  
JG: You should have guessed.  
CLR: Just tell me what you want. _Please._  
JG: What are you after?  
CLR: Something strong.  
JG: Vodka?  
CLR: Sure.  
JG: OK, that’s fifteen.  
CLR: Here.  
JG: If anyone asks, you didn’t get it from me.  
CLR: Of course.  
JG: Pleasure doing business with you.  
CLR: …  
  
\--END PROM LOG--

  
==>CANDICE: REACT.

It appears that you cannot outfox Johnny Gargano in a business deal. He is simply the best there is.

That being said, what a fucking asshole.  
  
It’s another water bottle, a fairly small one, but least he gave you actual booze this time. You head back into the bathroom and take a few welcome mouthfuls.  
  
Then you start coughing and spluttering, because straight vodka is just _nasty_.  
  
Still. It’s a distraction, at least.  
  
You drink a bit more, put the cap back on the bottle and head outside, looking for another distra… ah, fuck.  
  
  
==>CANDICE: WHAT?  
  
You can see Joey over there. He’s talking to BOBBY FISH and KYLE O’REILLY, aka PWG High’s resident… dudes, for lack of a better description. The three of them hung out together for a while a year or so ago, and Joey managed to convert Bobby and Kyle into Sleazy Bobby and Sleazy Kyle. Kyle and Bobby reverted to normal after they stopped hanging out with Joey, but you have no doubt that his sleaziness remains yet in their souls. Seeing the three of them together fills you with dread, but you know you need to go make sure they’re not up to anything. If they are, then everyone is in danger and the prom may well have to be evacuated before the Sleaze Plague spreads. After all, as much as you adore Joey, one of him is enough. Three of him is a national crisis.  
  
  
==>CANDICE: GO TALK TO THE SLEAZY TRIO.  
  
Here goes nothing.

  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--  
  
\-- Candice LeRae [CLR] began talking to Joey Ryan [JR], Kyle O’Reilly [KOR] and Bobby Fish [BF]--  
  
CLR: Hey, guys…  
BF: -and that’s why you _always_ fuck a stranger in the ass!  
JR: Without lube.  
KOR: And once you’re done, you turn them around and-  
CLR: Oh _fuck_ no.  
  
\--END PROM LOG--

  
==>CANDICE: NOPE THE FUCK OUT OF THERE.  
  
Nope. Nope nope nope nope nope.  
  
Jesus Christ. They can’t have been talking for more than five minutes. Joey sure does work fast. Still, it doesn't look like things are too bad right now. You're sure that if you can separate Joey from Kyle and Bobby, things will sort themselves out. But first, you need a minute.

You head into the least-used part of the room, full of unused chairs and tables for later. Unfortunately, you miss the obvious. You’re so busy getting away from Team Sleaze that you fail to look where you’re going, and-  
  
_Shit._  
  
You’ve just walked into your two least favourite people, and from the looks of things, they were waiting for you. You’re in a part of the room where you can’t easily be seen. No one else is around. And even worse, when you turn around, your third least favourite person is now standing behind you.  
  
Shit.  
  
OK. Think. You have to think.  
  
You make a quick turn and get your back against the wall. They’re all in front of you, but at least they can’t get behind you.  
  
Yay.

  
  
==>CANDICE: CONFRONT THESE ASSHOLES.  
  
The assholes in question are the Young Bucks and RODERICK STRONG. _Great._  
  
From day one, these guys have set out to make your life hell. Why? Because they’re obnoxious, petty, irredeemable douchebags, and also because they’re Super Dragon’s favourites and they know he doesn’t like you. As a result, they’ve pretty much got carte blanche to fuck you over and get away with it, and you’ve had to work extra hard to make sure that you can retaliate without Super Dragon becoming aware of it, or he’ll come down on you like a ton of bricks.  
  
You’re already resigning yourself to another session of insults and bruises when a thought strikes you: this isn’t PWG High. There are a bunch of students here who probably don’t know or care who Super Dragon is, let alone who is or isn’t his favourite students. Even better, the WWE High, NXT High and ROH High chaperones don’t answer to him. And even better than _that_ , most of the students from the other schools don’t know you, Roddy or the Bucks, so all they’ll see is three guys cornering a girl. Hopefully that’ll get you some help, if anyone sees.  
  
So now, your mission is to make sure that they see.  
  
But you’re a fair girl. You’ll give these assholes a chance to fuck off first.  
  
  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--  
  
\-- Candice LeRae [CLR] began squaring off with Roderick Strong [RS], Matt Jackson [MJ] and Nick Jackson [NJ]--  
  
CLR: What the hell do you want?  
MJ: Oh, that’s not nice.  
RS: Yeah, that’s mean. What, we can’t come say hello to our special friend?  
NJ: You’re looking lovely tonight, Candice. Nice dress.  
CLR: Cut the bullshit. What do you assholes want?  
RS: You wound me.  
NJ: We just thought we’d come say hello. You know, given that we’re all here together.  
MJ: And you know, it’ll be a long night. We’ll be around to keep an eye on you if you want company.  
RS: You know, just in case you thought we wouldn’t.  
NJ: It’s not like any of your friends care about you.  
RS: It’s not like anyone cares, actually. Except Ryan, but he’s just as worthless as you. You two deserve each other.  
NJ: Oh yeah, good point.  
MJ: Maybe we should go find him and-  
CLR: Back the fuck off.  
NJ: That’s not a very smart move, Candice. We’re just being nice, after all.  
CLR: Touch me and I’ll scream.  
RS: And you really think anyone will care?  
CLR: Yeah, I do. We’re not at PWG High, assholes. We’re in a room full of people who don’t suck Super Dragon’s cock. So they hear me scream, and you guys are _fucked._ You think Super Dragon will like it if every other school here finds out that he encourages people to bully students he doesn’t? You think- mmmph!  
RS: Should have kept your mouth shut, bitch.  
CLR: *muffled sounds*  
MJ: You shouldn’t have said all that, Candice. I mean, Super Dragon won’t like it when we tell him what you said. You do know that, right?  
NJ: And also-  
  
\-- Joey Ryan [JR] has entered the chat --  
  
\-- Chris Hero [CH] has entered the chat --  
  
\-- Brian Cage [BC] has entered the chat --  
  
\-- Laura James [LJ] has entered the chat --  
  
\-- Johnny Gargano [JG] has entered the chat --  
  
NJ and MJ: *release CLR*  
BC: I gotta admit, I’d really love to hear you guys explain this one. I mean, what it looks like to me is that you three got a girl by herself in a part of the room where nobody’s supposed to be, and you physically restrained her and made a lot of threats. That’s what it looks like to you guys, right?  
CH: Yeah.  
JR: That’s it.  
LJ: Quite!  
BC: Johnny?  
JG: *nods*  
BC: Candice? You OK?  
CLR: *mutters* Fine.  
BC: So, tell me: what exactly were you guys doing?  
NJ: We were just telling her the truth.  
JR: What?  
MJ: *sneers* The truth, Ryan. Which is that nobody wants this bitch around- or you either. PWG High’s for students who aren’t trash.  
BC: Shut up, Jackson. Roddy, I’m gonna assume that you’re what passes for the brain of this operation. You got anything for me?  
RS: This doesn’t concern you, Brian. This is between us, Ryan and her.  
BC: Oh, it does. Candice is my friend, so I’m sort of obligated to care when assholes like you try to hurt her.  
CH: And by the way, we heard what you said.  
LJ: And I quite resent the implication that you seriously believe that you can just run roughshod over her, and that nobody cares about her. You’re _so_ wrong about both.  
BC: Like she said, Super Dragon won’t like it if everyone else finds out that he encourages bullying.  
CH: So maybe we’ll tell them. Or maybe we won’t.  
LJ: Here’s how it’s gonna work, boys: you stay the fuck away from all of us tonight. Not a word, not a look, not a gesture. If you don’t, we’ll tell everyone everything.  
CH: Or maybe we’ll do it anyway.  
BC: And if you decide you’ve got nothing to lose and go after us anyway… well.  
CH: Let’s just say you might have an accident.  
LJ: Or several.  
BC: Is that clear?  
NJ: Johnny, come on, man, you hate her-  
JG: Shut the fuck up.  
MJ: What?  
JG: Don’t ever presume you know me. You don’t. And for the record, nobody fucks with Candice except me.  
BC: So do you understand, or do we have to tell you again? Trust me, you don’t want us to have to tell you again.  
RS: …crystal.  
JG: Good. Now get the fuck out of here.  
  
\--END PROM LOG--

  
==>CANDICE: REACT.  
  
Fuck your life.  
  
Seriously. _Fuck your life._  
  
You have never felt so humiliated before.  
  
You walked into an obvious ambush. You practically _let_ them get you at their mercy. You had to be bailed out by your friends, the girl you’re in love with and your frenemy with benefits. And the prom hasn’t even officially _started_ yet.  
  
Tonight could not possibly get any worse.

You want to run off and never talk to anyone again, but you can’t run in these _fucking_ heels.

So instead, you ignore your stupid dress and the stupid heels and just flop down onto the floor.  
  
You’re still holding Johnny’s bottle of vodka, and you unscrew the cap and drink a few more mouthfuls. It tastes fucking awful, but God. What the fuck did you do to deserve this?  
  
You’re this close to bursting into tears when Joey flops down next to you and hugs you. 

You really couldn’t ask for a better friend.  
  
  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--  
LJ: Are you all right?  
CLR: *shrugs*  
LJ: Candice…  
CH: Fucking assholes. We should have told them to get fucked ages ago…  
BC: Yeah, but I didn’t think they’d do that… I never thought they’d go that far…  
BC: Joey, Candice… why didn’t you tell us it got that bad?  
CLR: Super Dragon loves them. They can get away with whatever they want. What the hell could any of you do?  
CH: No, they can’t. They try anything from now on, and we’ll explain why that isn’t acceptable.  
JR: It’s not going to work.  
LJ: Why not?  
CLR: Super Dragon hates me and Joey, he’ll-  
CH: He doesn’t hate me. Or Brian. Or Bobby, or Kyle, or Trevor. How’s he gonna pin it on you two if you two somehow aren’t involved?  
JR: …he’ll find a way.  
BC: Come on, man, you can’t give up that easily.  
JR: ...maybe.  
CLR: *shrugs*  
JG: Come on. I’ve got a distraction.  
CLR: Not in the mood for your games, Johnny.  
JG: I swear I’m not screwing with you.  
CLR: …fine.  
  
\--END PROM LOG--

  
==>CANDICE: FOLLOW JOHNNY.  
  
It’s stupid. It’s moronic. It’s laughable. Here you are, having just been bailed out of one ambush, willingly following a guy who randomly flips between hating and liking you into the unisex bathroom. Anything could happen.  
  
Fuck it. You’re mildly tipsy and you officially don’t care anymore.  
  
So when Johnny shuts the door and locks it, you don’t know what to expect (apart from chaperones dragging you both out in about a minute), but your field of fucks is barren.  
  
And then he hugs you.  
  
That… was not what you were expecting.  
  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--

\-- Johnny Gargano [JG] began comforting Candice LeRae [CLR]--

CLR: Uh…  
JG: Shhh.  
CLR: What are you doing?  
JG: Hugging you.  
CLR: Why?  
JG: Because I may be an asshole, but I really do care about you?  
CLR: …Johnny…  
JG: And the Bucks are scum. And Roddy’s a dick.  
CLR: That we can agree on.  
JG: Awesome.  
CLR: …thank you for the vodka.  
JG: Just don’t drink too much. They’ll kick you out if you seem drunk.  
CLR: Fine. You keep it for me.  
JG: OK.  
CLR: Are we having a moment?  
JG: No. Nothing’s on fire.  
CLR: *laughs*  


\--END PROM LOG--  
  
  
==>CANDICE: FEEL BETTER.  
  
Johnny Gargano may be a massive douchebag, but you’re so infinitely grateful that he exists right now.  
  
And hell, maybe you can even try facing the rest of the night.  
  
Your friends will help. They always do. Humiliation aside, they did for you what you would have done for them in the same situation.  
  
So you’re going to go out there, face the prom and maybe, just maybe, you’ll get to fuck those assholes up.  
  
But that's for later.

  
\--SHOW PROM LOG--  
  
JG: You good?  
CLR: Yeah. Let’s go.  
JG: OK.  
  
\--END PROM LOG--

 


End file.
